


janken

by anirondack



Series: 10 Kinks Challenge [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Butt Plugs, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Post-Canon, Riding, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9640274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anirondack/pseuds/anirondack
Summary: Yuuri and Victor play rock, paper, scissors to see who has to top.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the 10 Kinks Challenge. This fic's kink is "sex toys".

“Yuuri– _ah_ – Yuuri, you are unspeakably cruel.”

Yuuri grins into Victor’s neck, then licks a slow path up from his collarbone to his ear. Victor squirms a little where he’s sitting on the couch, but Yuuri just pins him down tighter with his thighs. Victor’s hands are trapped under Yuuri’s knees and Yuuri is trying to hold him down as painlessly as possible. Victor keeps leaning forward to try to catch a real kiss on his lips, or else at least wrap his arms around Yuuri’s waist, but Yuuri won’t let him.

“Why would you do this to me, Yuuri?”

Yuuri just laughs, a maddeningly soft, seductive sound, in Victor’s ear. Then his teeth follow his breath and he’s tugging at Victor’s earlobe, pressing under his shirt and sliding his hands up Victor’s sides to his chest.

“Yuuuuuri…”

“Victor,” Yuuri breathes, in a very very unfair manner, and then rocks his hips down. Victor makes a rather undignified sound in the back of his throat and his head drops back against the couch. He stares up at the ceiling, trying to maintain composure, until Yuuri leans up and blocks the view with his face. He’s smirking. “I want you to fuck me, Victor.”

“Fuck.” That earns a full body shiver, rolling all the way up Victor’s spine and then back down. He tugs at his hands again and Yuuri pushes himself up a fraction of an inch to free them. Victor immediately runs his hands over Yuuri’s hips, back to his ass, and squeezes. Yuuri purrs, clearly pleased with himself, and rolls his hips in Victor’s lap. His cock, half-hard and well on its way to a full erection, grinds into Victor’s until Victor is in the same state and Victor is panting softly against Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Will you do it, Victor?” Yuuri murmurs against Victor’s jaw, then traces his lips after the words. “Will you fuck me?” It’s still so rare to hear Yuuri ask for things like that, Victor can never help his body’s reaction to it. His insides twist pleasantly and he hisses through his teeth as Yuuri’s fingers catch one nipple and squeeze.

“Oh– _ah_ , it’s your turn,” he manages, which is very impressive for how Yuuri is sucking at the base of his throat, turning patches of skin pink and faint purple. “I fucked you last time. It’s your turn to fuck me.”

“But I need you,” Yuuri whines. God, he’s cheating so hard, he knows that Victor is weak to him whining like that. “I need you in me, Victor, won’t you do it?” He reaches down to slip his fingers under the waistband of Victor’s sweatpants, brushing knuckles along the head of Victor’s cock, which is already striving frantically upwards in his underwear, making the fabric a little darker in spots with precome.

“Don’t try to back out of your promises,” Victor gasps. Yuuri shoves his hand further down and curls his fingers around Victor’s cock through his underwear, gently squeezing and rubbing his palm against the outline. “We made a deal.”

“But Victor…” Yuuri reaches over with his other hand and pulls at Victor’s hand until it’s resting on his chest. His nipples are hard through the thin athletic shirt he’s wearing and Victor’s thumb traces a circle around one without thinking. “Don’t you want me?”

“You know I do, zolotse, I want you on top of me, pressing me down into our bed.” If Yuuri wants to play dirty, then Victor doesn’t mind stepping to his level. “Holding me down and taking me.”

“Mmm, I’d love to ride you,” Yuuri agrees, now very obviously rutting against Victor, trying to get him riled up. “You know how good it feels…”

“That’s not what I mean, Yuuri,” Victor says, trying to sound firm and failing pretty spectacularly. There’s a faint tremor in his voice now that Yuuri can’t not notice, but Victor refuses to let him win so easily. “I’ve taken my turn.”

“But that was _days_ ago,” Yuuri says, even whinier. “I can’t last that long.” He pulls back a little and bats his eyelashes, through the effect is somewhat lost to the frames of his glasses.

“Yes you can.”

“Victor…”

“Yuuri.” Victor squeezes Yuuri’s hips firmly. “I’ll go prepare myself if you want to have sex.” Yuuri frowns at him, but doesn’t stop pawing at his chest. It’s very hard not to just push Yuuri onto the couch and kiss him senseless right now, but Victor has principles to uphold.

“Janken,” Yuuri tells him, and holds up one fist.

“...What?”

“Let’s play janken for it,” Yuuri says.

“Uhm,” Victor says. “Janken?”

“Um… rock, cloth, scissors,” Yuuri clarifies. He wiggles his fist a little.

“Oh, rock paper scissors?” Victor says, then barks out a laugh.

“If you lose, then you have to fuck me,” Yuuri says. He settles himself more comfortably in Victor’s lap, but one hand tangles in Victor’s hair, fisted at the back, and tugs gently. Victor makes a low _nnnn_ sound and his eyes fall closed, and then flutter open again.

“In Russia, if you lose rock paper scissors, you get slapped,” he murmurs.

“Maybe some other time,” Yuuri replies, then grins. He leans in and brushes his lips against Victor’s, then sits up again. “Come on, Victor. If you won’t fuck me on your own, let’s throw for it.” He brings Victor’s hand up and curls his fingers into a fist, then moves his own hand back. “Winner take all.”

Victor waggles his eyebrows and Yuuri laughs. “Fine, fine. Best two out of three?”

“If you want.” Yuuri lets go of Victor’s hair to brush his own bangs out of his face. “Saisho wa guu.” His hand curls back into a fist next to Victor’s. “Janken pon, go.”

Yuuri throws paper. Victor throws rock.

Yuuri grins. Victor pouts.

“Two out of three,” Victor insists.

“Fine, fine, two out of three,” Yuuri echoes.

Victor reaches up with his other hand and taps Yuuri lightly on the cheek.

Yuuri grins. “I didn’t even lose.”

“You will,” Victor says sternly. “One, two, three, throw.”

They both throw scissors.

“Janken pon, go.”

Victor throws paper. Yuuri throws scissors again.

Yuuri grins wider. Victor scowls.

“It’s still your turn,” he says stubbornly.

“You agreed to janken,” Yuuri reminds him smugly.

“Did I do that?”

“You did,” Yuuri confirms. He’d gotten distracted away from Victor’s cock before, but his hand finds it again, rubbing it through Victor’s sweatpants.

Victor sighs out a long breath which hitches a little in the middle of it. “I did, didn’t I,” he grumbles. “Alright, alright. Cheater.”

Yuuri grins brightly, then surges forward to mash their mouths together. Victor groans softly and wraps his arms around Yuuri again, pulling him flush against his chest and grinding against him.

“Are you going to carry me to bed?” Yuuri murmurs against Victor’s lips.

“I most certainly am not,” Victor says. “If anything, you should carry me.”

“I guess that’s only fair.” In a second, Yuuri is out of Victor’s lap, his cock obviously tenting the front of his boxers, and braces one knee against the couch as he scoops Victor up, bridal style. Victor yelps and wraps his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders, and Yuuri takes a moment to get his balance back, and then he’s staggering them off toward the bedroom, shuffling sideways so that he doesn’t hit Victor’s head on the door frame.

“Oh, Yuuri, you’re so strong,” Victor says, voice light and floaty as Yuuri tosses him only the bed. “Surely, you should be the one taking me, with your strong arms and your stamina…” He drapes one arm over his forehead, and Yuuri laughs a genuine, happy, endorphin-filled laugh.

“I won, fair and square.”

“You cheated fair and square,” Victor says. “But I suppose I can forgive you.” He holds out his arms and Yuuri strips his shirt off, then climbs on top of him. Victor cups his face and brings their mouths together and Yuuri devours him hungrily.

“I was thinking,” he murmurs in between kisses. “Since it’s _so much work_ to fuck me…”

“It’s no work to fuck you,” Victor groans. Yuuri’s body heat is radiating all around him and Yuuri’s teeth tug at his lower lip. It’s very hard to focus. “It’s a privilege.”

Yuuri blushes a little at that and kisses Victor again, running fingers roughly through his hair. “You’re so good to me,” he mumbles without breaking the kiss much - it comes out slurred, but Victor know what he means and he knows the feeling. “Let me be good to you.”

“Oh, zolotse, you always are good to me.”

“No, I have an idea.” Yuuri kisses Victor three more times - Victor suspects that it was only supposed to be once more, but then Yuuri got away from himself - and then rolls off of Victor and off of the bed to go digging through one of the drawers in Victor’s bedside table. Victor watches him idly for a moment, then sits up and shimmies off his sweatpants and his underwear and tosses them on the ground.

“Here we go,” Yuuri says to himself. He tosses a bottle of lube and a couple condom packets at Victor. One condom hits Victor in the face. Yuuri closes the drawer and turns around, now glasses-less, untying the drawstrings of a small velvet bag, and then pulls out a steel anal plug and wipes off a nonexistent bit of dust.

“Yuuri?”

“You’re being so good, fucking me, you should get something too.” Yuuri climbs back onto the bed, next to Victor this time, and runs a hand down his hip, kneading lightly at his thigh. “I’ll put this in for you, if you want. Like getting fucked twice.”

“Ah,” Victor breathes. Yuuri’s fingers creep backwards, squeezing at his ass, and he groans and arches a little. “You’re brilliant. My sun, my stars, my–”

“Just fiancé is fine,” Yuuri teases gently. “Let me?”

“I’d love you to.”

Victor lets Yuuri roll him onto his back and then drop down onto the ground by the bed. Victor’s legs hang over the edge of the mattress and Yuuri rubs them for a moment, then reaches his hand up. Victor reaches for the lube and passes it to him, and there’s a quiet _snick_ of the bottle opening and some gentle rumbling, and then Yuuri kneels up and spreads Victor’s legs a little farther apart. Victor hoists one leg up and over Yuuri’s shoulder and Yuuri smiles, then grips Victor’s hip with one hand and starts working him open with the other. Normally, Yuuri would take ages with this part, pressing two fingers into Victor and keeping them there until Victor is about ready to claw his own skin off with need, but Yuuri seems eager, so it’s messy and it stretches and it doesn’t hurt so much as it’s very overwhelming. Victor braces his foot against Yuuri’s shoulder and rocks down and Yuuri mouths sloppily at the inside of his thigh apologetically, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

“Here, hang on,” he murmurs softly, then carefully draws his fingers out of Victor. Victor mourns the loss, but Yuuri is reaching down below his sightline again and there’s the squishy sound of the lube bottle, and then Yuuri sits up, slicked up plug in hand. “Bear down for me a little, okay?”

Victor does his best to comply, even though he winces at the coolness of the steel. But Yuuri is gently persistent, twisting the plug a little and rocking it in from different angles. Victor gulps audibly when the widest part sinks into him and the rest of it follows suit, his body taking it in eagerly.

“There we are,” Yuuri says, satisfied. He wipes his hands on his underwear, then strips them off and leaves them on the ground. He closes the lube and brings it up onto the bed, then helps Victor sit up. Shifting makes the plug shift inside Victor and his hands shake as it presses up against him deliciously. “How is it?”

Victor makes a soft whimpering noise and grinds his ass down against the bed a little. The steel presses up relentlessly inside him, spreading him and touching on what feels like every nerve inside him.

“Good, then?” Yuuri asks. Victor nods briefly and closes his eyes, still trying to adjust. Yuuri reaches out and strokes his arm, then takes his hand and brings it to his lips. He kisses each of Victor’s knuckles in turn, and then his pulse point. “I’ll get myself ready, okay? I’ll give you a second.”

Victor wants to protest that he can do it, he’s more than glad to do it, but Yuuri does have a point. He feels very overwhelmed, like he always does, and it always takes a little bit to adjust, so he nods.

“Okay,” Yuuri says. “You can watch. I know you always like that.”

“I will,” Victor says, a little strangled.

“I hope so.” Yuuri kisses his hand one more time, then shifts over to the top half of the bed, grabbing the lube as he passes. Victor hears the bottle open, and then Yuuri’s sharp intake of breath, and then the shaky exhale and the sound of wet skin against skin. Yuuri moves and the mattress shifts and the plug jostles inside of Victor and sensation washes him all over again. He just takes a moment and breathes through it, then reaches for his cock, just to kind of check out how things are. He’s leaking profusely, like he always does, and he runs his thumb through it and down his shaft to his balls. He presses on them experimentally, and then at the spot just above him, and it feels like he can feel the plug, or at least the present of _something_ , there through his skin. He reaches down then, past his balls, and runs his fingertips lightly around the round base of the plug, and then where his skin is stretched to accommodate it. Yuuri sometimes taps on the base, which makes Victor writhe and, on one occasion, scream if done at the right time. He tries it himself and electricity jolts around inside him and he bites his tongue. Soft moaning fills his ears and he briefly wonders if it’s him, but then he remembers Yuuri and turns around.

Yuuri is on his knees, chest pressed into the bed, and he has one hand threaded between his thighs. His forearm is working in short, rhythmic jerks, and his face is half pressed into the mattress, but it’s not enough to muffle anything, nor does Victor think that Yuuri is really trying to. His hair is slightly sweat dampened already, and a few strands stick to his forehead. His eyes are closed, but as if he can tell that Victor is looking at him, they open, wide and dark and hazy.

“Oh,” Victor says.

Yuuri gives him a shaky smile, then cants his hips back and groans through his teeth. Victor can only sit there and watch him as he thrusts into his own palm, cock hanging down by his forearm, as flushed as his face and twice as wet. Victor’s mouth feels dry.

He watches for another minute, until Yuuri delicately pulls his fingers free with a soft sigh and looks up at Victor again. “Think I’m ready,” he says, licking dry lips. “You need a hand with the condom?”

Victor probably doesn’t, but he nods anyway.

Yuuri pushes himself up, then crawls back to Victor and grabs one of the condoms. His fingers are a little shaky as he tears the packet open and he pokes his tongue out a tiny bit between his lips as he pinches the tip of it and rolls the rest down Victor’s cock. Victor shudders a little, and then Yuuri curls his fingers around it and gives it a few strokes and Victor drops his head forward against Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asks.

“I might die,” Victor murmurs. “I think it will be a very pleasurable death, though.”

Yuuri laughs and tucks himself against Victor for a moment. “I would prefer if you didn’t, though.”

“Okay, but just for you.”

Yuuri smiles at him again, and then pushes Victor onto his back and climbs on top of him. “Can I ride you?” he asks, shyly, like he’s embarrassed now that he’s gotten here.

“There’s little I would love more,” Victor says honestly.

Yuuri’s flush spreads down his neck and his shoulders and he pushes his hair out of his eyes again. He’s so unbearably beautiful that Victor just cannot handle it sometimes.

Yuuri reaches over for the lube again and drips it straight onto Victor’s cock. He gives Victor a few more cursory strokes, to spread it all around, and then shuffles up Victor’s chest and reaches behind himself. Victor feels fingers around his cock, and then splitting heat, and Yuuri throws his head back and keens as he sinks down an inch at a time, rocking himself forward in slow circles. Victor doesn’t breathe until Yuuri is fully seated in his lap, and then Yuuri tenses up all around him and all the breath is punched out of his chest.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he manages, fingers digging into Yuuri’s hips.

“I got impatient,” Yuuri admits, rolling his eyes a little at himself. “Do you like it?”

“Zolotse, I love it.”

Yuuri shines with that. He carefully leans forward until he can hover over Victor, with his elbows propped on either side of Victor’s head. He’s just a little too tall like that, so Victor cranes up and kisses him, uncoordinated and sweet. Yuuri runs fingers through Victor’s hair and kisses back, and then rocks his hips, forward an inch and back an inch, still settling himself. Victor strokes at his hips and his sides and his thighs, watching carefully for any sign of discomfort on Yuuri’s face, but once Yuuri fully acclimates, he sighs and drops his head down so he can press his lips to Victor’s again.

“Okay?” he asks when they break again, and Victor nods. He feels very _taken_ and it’s a good feeling, if a very intense one. Yuuri traces a fingertip down Victor’s jaw and Victor turns his head to kiss Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri brushes his thumb over Victor’s lower lip, then sits up and leans back, gasping softly at the change of angle. “Okay. Okay. Can you bend your legs up?”

Victor holds onto Yuuri’s hips as he pushes his legs up so that Yuuri can balance against his thighs. Yuuri’s weight settles heavily on him and when his feet are planted on the bed, Yuuri rocks a little and the plug inside Victor nudges against Victor’s prostate and Victor nearly shouts in surprise.

Yuuri looks concerned for a second, but then he sees the way Victor’s body rolls down and his worry turns into a smirk. “The plug?”

“Uh huh,” Victor pants.

“Perfect.” Yuuri braces his hands on Victor’s chest, then carefully rises up and sinks down again. When Victor’s only partly buried in Yuuri, the plug isn’t too noticeable, but when Yuuri comes back down, sat fully on Victor’s cock and rocking his hips down into the bed, the edge presses against the bed and the whole thing tilts up and brushes against his prostate and makes his nerves start tiny electric fires all over him. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes, it’s so good,” Victor breathes.

“I knew it would be good,” Yuuri says. He rises up and sinks down again. His thigh muscles stand out a little as they strain with Yuuri’s weight, but Yuuri can ride Victor for much longer than Victor can handle, as they’ve proven with practice, so Victor contents himself with watching his muscles move under his skin. Yuuri rolls his hips from side to side again, then brings his knees forward a little, and then starts dragging himself up and thrusting back down faster and Victor claps a hand over his own mouth.

“Gods, Yuuri–”

“It’s like being fucked, isn’t it?” Yuuri says shakily. “Like being fucked on both ends.” Each time he drops down on Victor, his breath gets punched out of his chest. His skin is flushed and sweaty and his hair is a mess and Victor is pretty sure he’s never seen anything as perfect. “Like I can be in you while you’re in me.”

“Yuuri,” Victor manages in a soft, wavering voice.

“I know, it’s a lot,” Yuuri pants. “But you’re taking me so well, Victor. You’re fucking me so good.”

Victor moans and arches his back up, but that just makes the plug rub against him harder, and he drops his back hard onto the bed, which makes Yuuri bounce in his lap. Yuuri makes a surprised sound, with a whine at the end, and he grabs at Victor’s hips until he does it again. Victor gasps and Yuuri cries out loudly, and then Yuuri is reaching back and fumbling for the plug so that he can push against it. His fingers bump against it and the shock of it echoes all through Victor and he sinks his teeth into his own hand so that his howl is muffled.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Yuuri gasps. “That’s it, that’s it, come on.” He taps the plug again and Victor’s hips jerk up like they’ve been electrified. He drives up hard into Yuuri and Yuuri pushes back down to meet him and Victor feels individual atoms of his body falling apart and turning him into a mindless creature of need and heat.

Yuuri rides him hard, and it feels like Victor is a puppet that Yuuri holds the strings to. He makes Victor jerk and shake and thrust and arch with squeezes of his muscles and taps and twists of the plug. He wrings sounds out of Victor until Victor’s voice is scratchy and there are finger shaped imprints on Yuuri’s hips from trying to hold himself together. “It’s so good,” Yuuri breathes above him, pulling at his own hair. “You’re so good, I’m gonna come all over, Victor–”

Victor groans and pulls Yuuri up and slams him back down and Yuuri yells, one sharp, single syllable curse, and then his cock jerks and shoots white all over Victor’s chest, twice and then three times. Victor watches with wide eyes, unable to look away, and then he looks up at Yuuri, whose eyes are squeezed shut and mouth is open, panting hard like he’s never had oxygen before. Victor feels like his body is being pulled ten different ways, but he forces himself to be still until Yuuri finally looks up.

“You can keep going,” he says breathlessly. “I want you to come for me.” He pets at Victor’s hair, pushing it away from his face. “Want you to come in me.”

“Yuuri, you can’t say such things,” Victor groans.

“Why not? It’s what I want.” Yuuri shifts in Victor’s lap and winces a little, but nods. “Come on, I can take it.”

Victor takes his hand and presses it to his forehead, and then reaches up and pulls Yuuri down into his arms, heedless of the mess. Yuuri gasps again and bites Victor’s shoulder and it barely even hurts. Victor’s other hand wraps around the back of Yuuri’s thigh, and then he’s holding Yuuri still against him as he thrusts up into him. Yuuri’s yell is muffled by Victor’s shoulder, but his teeth dig in deeper, and his fingers on Victor’s biceps squeeze hard and Victor takes and takes and takes him. The mattress creaks a little with the force of Victor’s body every time he slams it down, and Yuuri chokes out moans and whimpers every time Victor slams himself up. Victor is talking now, babbling nothings in Russian because his body is full of energy and he lets it out through his mouth until the plug catches neatly against his nerves in just the perfect way and all the fire in him explodes.

He jams his face against Yuuri’s throat but that doesn’t help muffle his shouting very much. Heat ripples out through his body from deep inside him, making his whole body shake violently and his heels dig and slide against the bed. Yuuri holds him through it, rubbing his arms, murmuring softly as Victor rides the pleasure out from something all consuming into something manageable, and then from something manageable into a dark, quiet afterglow where he feels like his whole body has lost its bones and gone limp. It’s a shame, he thinks - he was just getting the hang of quad flips again and now he doesn’t have bones anymore. His skating career is ruined because he came himself to death, just like he told Yuuri he wouldn’t.

“Victor,” Yuuri’s voice drifts by. “Are you still in there?”

“Nnmng,” Victor manages helpfully.

Yuuri chuckles softly in his ear. “Is that a yes?”

“Mmmmmm.”

“I’m going to take it as a yes.” Yuuri moves on top of him, and then the heat around Victor’s spent cock slowly disappears, followed by the latex around his skin and something soft against his chest, wiping the mess away. He whines about it until Yuuri’s body comes back and Yuuri lies heavily on top of him, resting his head on Victor’s sternum.

“That was,” Victor says, then swallows around his dry mouth. “That was a very good idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Janken is rock paper scissors in Japan and is taken a lot more... seriously? than it is here. People do it like a Lot to make decisions. Some places in Asia (where the game originated) used cloth instead of paper for the flat hand symbol, though I'm pretty sure they don't do it anymore.  
> And in Russia, people who lose rock paper scissors do get slapped.


End file.
